


Bookends

by Gulo



Category: Star Trek: The Original Series
Genre: Drabble, Fade to Black, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Pillow Talk, Pon Farr, Space Husbands, old married spirk, vague mention about violent mating practices
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-28
Updated: 2018-12-28
Packaged: 2019-09-29 10:33:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,395
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17201870
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gulo/pseuds/Gulo
Summary: A year after TUC, Jim and Spock are the odd couple, and a couple all but in name. But it's been seven years since that first fever, and now Spock's blood is boiling again. (Fade to black. This is more like a hurt/comfort fic.) EDIT: I wrote this before I realized that Vulcans don't sweat. If I had to finagle a headcanon workaround, what if he still had human pores, and during pon farr is the only time they absolutely must work that way?





	Bookends

Spock awoke in a cold sweat. He was drenched in it. He sat up in bed and felt dizzy. Taking a moment to center himself, he breathed deeply. An hour's meditation before retiring had not helped him, and he felt much worse now. 

He had to peel his t-shirt off, but kept pajamas on. Slowly standing, and suppressing the trembling in his body so as not to disturb the sleeping form next to him, Spock made his way to the kitchen to ask the replicator for water, and drank it quickly down. He leaned over the conventional kitchen sink to gaze out the window at the rolling hills lit by countless lights, misty in the oncoming fog. He watched some of the tiny lights move almost without watching, his mind in a haze, his rationale buffeted by intrusive thoughts. 

It wasn't the flu, nor any other virus. The timing was too on-point to be a coincidence. He knew what it was. It felt somewhat different this time, but he knew it. And he didn't know what to do about it.

There was no way he was going back to Vulcan just for this, no way he was going simply to take another wife. The whole ordeal had been so humiliating, so ridiculously archaic, that he'd almost sooner die than go through that again. He'd already fulfilled his family obligation, such as it was; that was over with and in the past. He now had a choice for how to proceed, but how?

Spock ordered another glass of water and quaffed it down greedily, a habit he was unaccustomed to, but his fever was high. Shuffling to the kitchen table, he pulled out a chair and sat still to watch the dawn creep in. He wasn't sure how much time passed, as he endured waves of alternating anger, anxiety, and exhilaration, but by the time it had settled down, the gray of morning lit the kitchen coolly. Not quite ready to shower, he slinked back into bed, glad that it was dry and warm.

Jim was a heavy sleeper, and Spock did not expect him to be awake. But Jim rolled over and gazed at him drowsily. "You alright?" 

His eyes closed against the dizzyness, Spock fought back combined irritation and gratefulness. He kept his breath even as he answered. "I am not well."

Jim sat up at once, mother hen. In this age of superior medical technology, the common cold was still a menace. "Oh, no. Did you catch something last night? Can I get you anything? I can run to the store. It should be open by now."

Jim had seen that look before. It was not one of curiosity, perplexity or puzzlement. It was a rare look for Spock, the one where he was actually troubled. Jim went from mother hen to truly worried, watching intently in silence. So Jim spoke for him. "... Your blood fever."

Eyes still closed, Spock turned his face away, exhaled slowly once more. 

Jim shifted up closer, hand over Spock's wrist where it rested over the duvet. "Do you need to return home?"

Spock considered his answer. " 'Need' is not the word for something I refuse to do." 

"But... then... what?"

"I have heard of Vulcans in exile or hermitage who survive their pon farr by entering deep, sustained meditation. As I refuse to take a mate in the traditional way, it seems to be my only choice. Perhaps this would be a good time to visit Tahoe." 

"No, no, you can't do that. You'll still run into people, this time of year. Everywhere around here you would, you'd have to go to Death Valley or something. You'd like that. But... are you sure, Spock? That you'll be alright? Is there nothing else ... we can do?" He took Spock's hand in his. Spock could sense Jim's fear and confusion, but also, a peculiar hope.

They certainly had been through a great deal together, to say the least. The five-year mission, Spock's own hermitage, his reunion with the Enterprise crew, his death and reincarnation, and all their further adventures. But he seemed to be more like himself now, his memories slowly returning, his personality settling. Naturally, Spock rarely spoke of his trials and tribulations. He never mentioned his brother, rarely his other family. He certainly never spoke about Khan or of Genesis, or of the Klingons. Whenever someone mentioned the whales, he just gave a little Vulcan smile. But sometimes, when Kirk caught him deep in thought, he would ask Spock what he was thinking about, and he would briefly say that he was contemplating V'Ger. 

Life had finally slowed down for them now. For the past year, they had been the odd couple. The Captain and the Captain. Living together, sharing time, sharing mundane concerns, sharing food and sundries, even sharing a bed. Jim held, caressed and sometimes even kissed Spock, and Spock enjoyed it. Seldom did Spock initiate, but the few times he did were everything to Jim. Spock sometimes wondered why Jim, all things considering, never asked for more -- but then he already knew why. All the lonely captain really wanted was to love and be loved. 

Spock's fingers interlaced with Jim's. He felt Jim's anxiety drowned out by that hope. The hormones surging in his brain heightened his telepathy, making any touch more volatile, so he practiced control; nevertheless, Spock carefully let the feeling permeate him, for what relief it offered. Jim's hand squeezed. For a moment he seemed to gather up his courage, leaned in very close, and whispered. "You can have me...."

Shocked, Spock withdrew his hand. The emotions were too much. He had to look away and sink into bed. Jim began to shrink down as well, and a thick silence fell. Someone yelling out on the street was what brought Spock back to the present. He rubbed his weary eyes, opening them at last, and then turned back to Jim. "You are... offering yourself to me?"

Jim took a moment to blink, confounded by the phrasing. "Well... yeah. Yes. I'd do anything for you, Spock. I'll help you through this, too."

The Vulcan was having a mental war with himself. Shades of thought passed his face. Slowly, he worked out the words. "I will not fight you again. But I fear mating with you, also. I may still injure you."

"Injure me...." Jim laughed nervously, though he wished he hadn't. He'd learned about the mating habits of sea otters and dolphins and such, and knew nature could be ruthless sometimes. Just, nothing about Vulcans seemed to him to be quite so brutal, even the duels elevated by ritual. "Well, I... know what I'm getting into here, if you know what I mean. For anything serious, there's the clinic just down the road. I'm sure it'll be fine. I trust you." Spock could see a blush coloring Jim's face brightly. He did seem to be in a particularly awkward place, making rational justifications for an act that he normally approached with flowery romance. Spock decided to offer him some relief in kind, and took his hand back firmly. Jim sighed, offered a wan smile. Then, he broke the silence again by saying, "I'm not afraid." 

Of course he wasn't, he was James T. Kirk. That actually made Spock smile, and even more remarkably, he turned to show it to Jim. Jim smiled back, then grinned, then laughed. He took Spock's other hand in both of his and squeezed them warmly. "Will you be my mate?"

Spock's smile was replaced by a look of earnestness, one that matched Jim's. Weakly, he managed to sit up, lean forward, and offer a little kiss. "Yes, Jim." 

"Spock!" Overjoyed, Jim embraced him, and Spock leaned into it. "Spock! I'm here for you. Whatever you need, whatever you need me to do, just tell me." 

Spock clung to his embrace. His mind raced so fast, he could barely process the relief he felt. "We have some time. Tomorrow, perhaps. Today, I must eat. I am very.... very hungry." 

"Okay. I'll get everything ready. I'll go to the shop anyway. Are you sure you don't need anything?" he kissed Spock's temple as he let him back down against the pillow. 

"... Hmm. Some more of that chocolate. It was the best I've had so far."

"You got it."

 

~<3

**Author's Note:**

> "Old Friends / Bookends" by Simon & Garfunkel -- youtube.com/watch?v=snVOxz6fjbA


End file.
